


Are You Thinking Of Me Now? (Frerard)

by majesticdragonair



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Meetings, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 08:59:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9993386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticdragonair/pseuds/majesticdragonair
Summary: They were a messy painter, Frank had noticed as he would watch colors of the rainbow and more fall onto his skin, overlapping his tattoos in splotches.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Marker Soul Mate AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6201427) by [casesandcapitals](https://archiveofourown.org/users/casesandcapitals/pseuds/casesandcapitals). 



> ...so i'm at school rn, during science, and i don't regret doing this instead of my work.
> 
> today's title in from!!!: the world is ugly, by my chem and that song makes me cry a lot you have no idea

Frank loved just sitting down with his sleeves rolled up, watching as little sketches would overlap his tattoos or paint would suddenly splash on his skin, not actually there. He loved to watch more colour appear on his skin, and he hope that one day he could see a proper drawing or painting down by his soulmate.

Sometimes, there would also be lyrics. If they showed during the day, they’d be a mix of random things that made Frank giggle. But when he woke up, sometimes lyrics would be messily written and they were downright depressing. They were a messy painter, Frank had noticed as he would watch colors of the rainbow and more fall onto his skin, overlapping his tattoos in splotches.

There were times where frank could’ve met him too. Sometimes, his soulmate would write down places and times down, sometimes even the name ‘Mikey’ would appear, as if they were meeting up. But Frank was always held back by work, or he was sleeping and it’d be long past the time when he woke up.

Today though, on his day off, he lied on the couch with the television, and he saw words being inked onto his skin, obviously his soulmate. He watched them for a few seconds, before he noticed that the person on the other end was writing a time and place on his skin.

‘2pm Starbucks on Laded road with Mikey, get there at 1:45’

Frank sat up straight, looking at the time. 11 pm, three hours. Frank smiled. He may finally be able to meet his soulmate.

-

He tried not to think about it much, dressing casually (meaning, ripped jeans and a faded band shirt) and heading down to the Starbucks, which was funnily enough, the closest one to him. His hand wriggled in his pocked on the walk, messing with his phone and keys, nervous. He hoped the stranger wouldn’t mind him interrupting his meeting with his friend, but then again, this was his soulmate he was going to meet. You would think you’d be happy to meet them no matter what.

Frank pushed open the door just as the clock in the room chimed for 1:45, and he looked around. Frank had a mix of purple and blue on his hands and a few sets of lyrics on his lower arm, it wouldn’t be too hard to find him.

Frank ordered a drink and stood back, leaning against the counter and-

Platinum blonde hair was what caught his eye, with the same paint splotches on his hands and arms. He had a coffee in front of him, with a sketch book and pencil that his eyes and hands were paying attention to. He was pale, somewhat blending in with his short hair, but not with his black clothes.

Frank was snapped out of it when the lady behind the counter tapped his shoulder, his coffee in hand. “Thank you,” he said, smiling and taking the burning drink.

She smiled at him, walking to serve another customer, and Frank slowly walked over to the blonde, who seemed too lost in his own world to notice Frank, who was still smiling. “Hi.”

The head of his soulmate snapped out, giving him a curious look. He looked at Frank’s coffee his grey lead slipped from his fingers when he looked at his hands, matching paint splotches. He smiled back.

“Hi, I’m Gerard.” He said, his voice a little nasally but fitting him so well. Frank sat down in front of him, placing his coffee next to Gerard’s. “I’m Frank.”


End file.
